Toni Lepeska
When a Parent Dies
I ordered four catfish filets, a handful of shrimp and a bag of ice, unaware that I would be transported from the Kroger fish counter across time and death. The moment happened when an employee awkwardly handed me the plastic bag of ice, open. I held the bag by its ends and twirled it. I …
Are you an adult orphan? I’d never heard of the term until I became one – and felt like one. I read it in a book somewhere. I then realized others had felt the same way as me. I identified with the term though my mother was still living. Why? Because with my father’s death, …
Delegating what to do with what the dead leave behind is a common ritual for the living. And when it’s your own loved one? In each slip of a paper and garment is a memory. Or a smell. A joy followed by a grief. For some, the task is too painful. They assign the job …
For all the sifting I did through my parents’ things after they died, I did not find one indication they ever made New Year’s resolutions, but somehow the practice caught on with me. They did create goals from time to time and posted inspirational quotes and phrases. I’m more intentional. I divided my 2019 goals …
Daddy died, and I thought the universe owed me a break. My mother was terminally ill. And I had a chronic illness. I deserved a pass on all other trouble – or so I believed. And thus, understandably, I blew my top six months later when the guy I adored walked all over me and …
I walked from the night into the veterinarian’s office with blood smeared on my arms, caked on my T-shirt and dried into the crevices of my toenails. I’d nursed a lot of animals before, but I’d never seen so much blood. At the sight of my baby’s wet, dripping, red paws, I had initially thought …
I bet you inherited books. Maybe a Bible. Or a series of recipe books. Or maybe like me, you inherited enough books to fill a small library, too many to ever read during your busy life. What are you to do with them all? I suggest you examine them closely before deciding to haul them …
What am I supposed to be? At different times in our lives we may ask this question or versions of it. Our sense of purpose – what am I to be? – is wrapped up in our identity – who am I? Nothing shakes identity’s foundation more violently than death. We were spouses, but now …
Death strips us all possessions. So it isn’t surprising that, yes, my parents left behind all their keys – a mass of keys that I combed through on the anniversary of Dad’s passing last week. Door keys. Car keys. Keys to the post office box I still rent. Keys to who knows what. They didn’t …
